


Blossoms Blooming Along Your Skin

by GalekhXigisi



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Autistic Dontatello (TMNT), Donatello and Leonardo (TMNT) are Twins, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nonbinary Michelangelo (TMNT), Teen Pregnancy, Trans Donatello (TMNT)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:55:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26629396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalekhXigisi/pseuds/GalekhXigisi
Summary: After Donnie starts feeling sick, he realizes that things are a little off and it slowly evolves into him taking a pregnancy test. Little does the Hamato family know, their lives are about to vastly change.
Relationships: Baron Draxum/Splinter (TMNT)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quick thing, Donnie and Mikey share a room since neither of them are cis. Leo and Raph share a room, too.

To be quite frank, Donatello feels disgusting as he stands up. He had taken a nap, a quick one, as per usual. He always had mixed feelings after taking a nap, sure, but this felt…  _ vastly _ different. His stomach felt like it was sloshing and his throat burnt with what may have been acid or something of that sort, he isn’t sure. His skin feels incredibly oily and his head feels like his brain is getting sloshed around as he moves. 

To say the very least, he feels like absolute  _ shit. _

From across the room, he can make out the blur that is Leo and Mikey. Donnie fumbles around his desk for his glasses, not even remembering if he had taken them off before he had fallen asleep. He hopes so, though, because his head only hurts the more squints in despiration to see wherever they are. 

“Are you okay,” Mikey asks from their spot in their own hammock hanging over their bed. Mikey’s playing on their phone, Donnie thinks, if the sounds of the Among Us murder is anything to go by. 

Donnie doesn’t get to reply. Before he even has the chance to say anything, he has to dart out of the room, scrambling to the bathroom connected to their room to vomit. His nails dig into the porcelain bowl as he sits on his knees, head tucked in to vomit up whatever content had been in his stomach. He’s used to being sick, to constantly vomiting up anything and everything since he had spent a good portion of his childhood sicker than a dog, but this feels… A lot different than any of the other times he had been sick. This isn’t anything new to him as he flushes, washes his mouth out, and then brushes his teeth, not caring about the habit. 

When he opens the bathroom door, he’s met face to face with his younger sibling, who raises a confused and worried brow. “You good,” they ask softly, clearly concerned for the older of the two. 

“Feel bad,” he bluntly replies as he moves away. He’s quick to walk back to his bed, sitting down on it and feeling sick as he does. 

“Is it your cycle,” Mikey asks bluntly as they move to sit down beside him, not minding that he had  _ just _ thrown up. ‘You usually get pretty icky on it.” 

“It’s early, then,” he mutters. “And I don’t really feel…  _ This _ bad because of it.” 

Mikey hums softly, laying down beside him and falling quiet. “We should probably tell Dads.” 

“Don’t wanna get up.” 

“Okay, we don’t have to. Can I braid your hair, though?” 

Donnie nods slowly. The younger of the two smiles, pulling up a garbage can without needing to be prompted and moving to get everything they would need for Donnie’s hair. Between the mixture of 4B and 4C curls, it meant a handful of things. They move accordingly, Donnie propping his head up long enough for Mikey to put a pillow on their lap, scooting over so Donnie can lay his head on their lap. Usually, then the older wasn’t feeling up to par and didn’t have the energy to do anything, Mikey would take the time to do his hair, easily fixating on the task Donnie had taught them once they were old enough to retain the information. 

They honestly thought that the nausea would end near then, within a day or two. 

It didn’t if the few weeks that follow are any sample to Donnie’s health. He learns how to handle it, though, doing a hefty amount of research being incredibly thankful when it seemingly goes away. He doesn’t have to skip any of his classes, legs folded in front of himself as he stares down at his computer, easily getting his work done without issue. The sixteen-year-old was taking on his second (and a half) masters at this very moment, surviving on pure spite, honestly. 

He feels… bloated, to be honest, but chalks it up to the nausea finally settling. 

At least, that’s all he chalks it up to until he remembers Mikey’s comment a few weeks ago. 

_ Where the fuck was his menstrual cycle? _

He moves from the living room to his shared bedroom, finding it to be empty.  _ Shit, _ that’s right, Mikey’s at April’s for the weekend with Leo, the two staying over for the time being. However, Donnie doesn’t have anything he needs and he finds himself in front of Raph’s door within an instant, tossing the door open with a short knock. He can’t find it in him to care about privacy as he opens the door and says, “Raph, if you come with em to the store, I’ll buy you pizza,” without any thought to it whatsoever. Thanks to taking on a job and somehow managing to rally up money on the side, he has more than enough to fund a sudden shopping trip and a half, yes, but he still finds his hands gently flapping with the anxiety that burns through him. 

“Yeah, sure,” Raph says, the oldest frowning slightly at seeing his younger brother. Donnie doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to his hands and answering  _ after _ he sees the subtle stimming. He raises a brow slightly but stands up, pocketing his phone and moving to get his wallet. “Are we driving or walking? And are you driving or me if we’re driving?” 

“Will you drive, please?” Donnie moves to exit the room, going to his room and digging around for his own wallet. “I’ll get you gas money, too.” 

Raph follows behind him, telling him, “You don’t have to buy me nothin’, Donnie. What store do you want to go to?” 

“Walgreens,” Donnie says, “or CVS.” 

“Walgreens or CVS?” Raph repeats it with a frown. “You sick or somethin’?” 

Donnie flinches, tensing up. “Well, Dollar Tree works, too. I just need something super specific.” 

Raph throws his arms up in surrender but doesn’t say anything else as he moves to the front door, getting his shoes. Donnie follows along, putting in his earbuds as he walks out the door. 

For the most part, it’s normal, Donnie blasting music as his hands move to use different forms of stimming, Hand flaps tend to be his main one, but Raph hands him a pen halfway through the ride which ends with Donnie clicking it repeated, then tapping on the dash and then his thigh. As soon as Raph stops at the Dollar Tree, though, the younger Hamato is stumbling out of the car, Raph following behind him. 

“You’re coming in,” Donnie asks, frowning. 

“I always come in?” The older brother frowns slightly. “Do you want me to stay out here?” 

Donnie stops, his eyes moving from the car back to his brother a few times before his hands start to flap again, this time lower, around his midsection and waist. Raph half expects him to tell him to just stay outside but instead he grabs his hand and says,  _ “Please, _ don’t tell Dad or Pops or  _ anyone, _ okay?” 

Raph frowns but does manage to nod as he gets pulled along. “What’d you even do, Donnie? This looks pretty suspicious.” 

“Okay, okay, now… Please don’t fuss at me, okay?” 

Donnie moves into the store and Raph knows he’s doomed the instant Donnie does. The store is quiet and Raph wouldn’t be able to say anything without making a scene. He sighs out, “Fine, Dee, but you’ve got a lot of explaining to do.” 

“I  _ know,” _ Donnie mumbles, but he ends up pulling Raph to the health section with him, no hesitation whatsoever. He moves to a section that, quite honestly, wouldn’t say he would expect to see from  _ Donnie, _ of fucking  _ all people _ any time soon. 

And yet, here’s Donnie, fishing out five different one dollar pregnancy tests and then immediately pulling his brother with him to the counter. Raphael’s eyes widen so significantly that he swears they’re going to pop right out of his skull. 

The woman who checks them out seems sympathetic as she rings it up, smiling politely as she says the total. And both Hamatos know she catches the way Donnie’s fingers thrum across the siding as he waits and Raphael has a mix between glaring and fretting over his brother. The younger pays without hesitation and is immediately walking out, Raph following silently. It isn’t until they both get in the car that Raph can actually say anything. 

“What the  _ fuck,” _ he says in a bitten out whisper. 

“I don’t  _ know!” _ Donnie’s eyes water. He tosses the bag on the dash. “I don’t even remember when I could have gotten pregnant and all I know is that I’ve been sick and cramping and I haven’t had a period and those are some of the telltale signs!” 

Raph sighs softly, deflating at seeing how upset the other is. “Alright, Donnie,” he sighs quietly. He runs a hand over his face and straightens up. “Just… take those tests however it says to and… hope for the best, I guess.” 

It isn’t until the next morning that Donnie takes the test and the two couldn’t be more thankful that their siblings are at April’s and that their dads are out getting groceries. Donnie’s sobbing doesn’t stop until he’s cried himself out, Raph holding him as the two sit on the bathroom floor. 


	2. Kendra, You are a monster from hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title inspired by the song Michelle

Donnie smiles as he moves to stand with the rest of the Purple Dragons, the self-claimed group smirking to each other. “Come on, Othello Don whatever-the-Hell,” kendra leers as she offers him the red cup, “You gotta chug! Club rules, don’t be a fuckin’ _girl!”_

Donnie flinches. He already feels sickly after whatever else has been shoved down his throat, especially the last thing that one of the other guys had leered him into drinking. “But-” 

“Drink or you’re out of the club,” comes her blunt reply to his attempt to not drink it. “Stop acting like such a girl, Venus.” 

Donnie flinches, but does adhere to her commands, taking drink from the cup and chugging it thanks to the three chanting at him to chug. 

Kendra laughs triumphantly as he gags at the disgusting taste, slapping Donnie’s back. She pushes him into the crowd of other party participants. 

Truth be told, the teenager doesn’t remember anything else about the party, not a singular detail except April reluctantly carrying him home from the party remains the next afternoon, not entirely sure how to respond to Donnie’s lack of _anything._




Donnie is reluctant to tell his family, but with how much he’s withdrawn over the last few days, well, it’s impossible to deny that something isn’t wrong with him. He pushes away even Mikey, trying his best not to crumble as Raph asks a few times if he’s okay. It takes him weeks to finally gain the confidence to say anything and it’s because he’s starting to show and he _knows_ that an abortion won’t be legal where they were. 

He presents the pregnancy tests in the middle of dinner, which is a dumb idea because Pops (Splinter) starts choking on his food, prompting Dad (Baron) to slap his back sympathetically. Leo shatters his glass of water thanks to slamming it down on the table, standing up within an instant and sending his chair back. Mikey, though, is just screaming. 

Donnie stars down at his plate, not too bothered as his eyes shut tightly, Raph gently patting his back. 

“For the love of all that is respectful, _Red,”_ Pops suddenly snaps once he’s gained his bearings enough to speak, “You better not have-” 

“It wasn’t _him,”_ Donnie yells, his face flushing darkly, “He’s my fucking _brother!”_

Leo echoes, _“Fucking brother,”_ with a snort, earning a shove from Donnie. 

“Blue,” Pops says, “Clean the glass and water up, please. Purple, explain what you’ve done.” 

Donnie frowns, head hanging low once more. “I don’t… I don’t even _know._ I haven’t had… I can’t remember having… Doing _that_ with anyone.” His fists ball and shake slightly. “I didn’t even _know…”_

Raph continues rubbing his back as Donnie’s tears pelt the table cloth. And he knows that in Donnie’s head, he’s wondering what the punishment is going to be, if he’s going to be kicked out or beaten or _what._ After all, pops’ side of the family was very traditional and Pops had been up until he was suddenly put in charge of four children stemming from affairs. If he would revert back to then and… 

“How far along are you,” Dad asks softly, seemingly relaxed and calm as he questions his son. 

“I think three months? Maybe four? I really don’t know… But I’m starting to show and I’m out of the morning sickness stage. But I’m at the point where it’s illegal to get an abortion…” 

“So, you’re kind of stuck with them,” Mikey asks with furrowed brows, looking sympathetically at his older brother. 

Donnie nods. “From a legal standpoint, yes…” 

Leo frowns slightly, gently dabbing at the table with a handful of paper towels. “Do you even, you know, _want them?”_

He shrugs at his brother, bringing his hands up to wipe at his face. “I _really_ don’t have a choice,” he says in a whimper. 

“If we need to do some backroom bull,” Pops says quickly after clearing his throat. “But… We will be supporting you no matter what you choose and we… We will support you no matter what you choose to do and we will genuinely support you.” 

_“Pops,”_ Leo says after a moment, frowning. 

_“No,”_ comes the instant snap of his voice, sharpening at the other’s word. “I don’t care if it’s legal or not. If Purple doesn’t want this, I will go to the lengths to ensure he is happy.” His stern expression leaves no room whatsoever for fighting or disagreement. “This is _dangerous,_ too. Purple is _sixteen,_ for fucks sake!” He makes a gesture at the second youngest. 

Donnie stands up, not willing to listen to the fight that is going to inevitably follow between Leo and Pops. Honestly, he just wants this all to be one bad dream, one bad dream that he’s going to wake up from in the morning, black and white lashes parting, revealing the ceiling to bi-colored eyes. And his cycle, the bitch that it is, will stain his thighs and he won’t have to see the pregnancy tests that confirm his fears, sitting within his bedside table, hidden away from the world and now made far too clear for the little Hamato family. 

He doesn’t think as he gets back to his shared room, opening the door to reveal the darkness. The only hint at light being the lava lamp Donnie keeps on during the night so neither he nor Mikey wake up in the darkness feeling alone after a nightmare, which was something that had always plagued the youngest two since they were young as could be. Pops used to tease that they could make a nightmare out of even the best of situations. (They could, though, not that they would voice it after having been called out for it and subconsciously becoming incredibly self-aware of it, twisting it into being a horrid flaw immediately.) 

He grabs one of his towels an a handful of clothes, not even entirely sure what he’s grabbing before making his way to the bathroom. He just wants to take a shower. Without looking at where he’s aiming, he tosses the pregnancy test into the trashcan, sniffling softly as he strips. 

He remembers every second of what he had hoped would have been erased, the heritage to his unborn fetus hoping to stay a secret even to their father. But Donnie remembers the hands running along his boy and the hands touching his skin and the awful words whispered into his ears before things began to hurt in places he couldn’t imagine could hurt _like that._

He shivers as he steps into the warm water. 

Cautiously, he runs a hand over his stomach. He doesn’t know where in the pregnancy he is, but he thinks it’s somewhere along the three month mark. Isn’t he supposed to be feeling amazing right about now? Feeling like his skin is glowing and his body is doing amazing and all the extra hormones are doing him all this wonderful good and beauty or whatever the fuck it was that _Mommy To Be_ bullshit website told him. However, he felt like he was losing his energy more and more, even as he switched to an appropriate and healthy diet. His headaches had turned into migraines that pounded at his head. Already, he could feel the pressure building in his body that would one day boil over and come to a painful pop. 

Or… maybe that was the anxiety talking? 

The bump isn’t all that small. He looks bloated, the soft chub around his hips having grown more and added onto his stomach as he unintentionally ate more, needed extra calories. He wasn’t built like Leo, more built like their mother than their father. Though the woman had died while giving birth to Donnie and accidentally passed on the dangerous possibility to have a complicated birth. He still looked so much like her. His figure was chubbier, not much for the top but his hips certainly angled in a way that Raph’s weren’t, nor any other masculine figure in the home. Yes, Leo and Pops both had angular hips that had feminine looks to them, but Donnie’s was uncanny when he wasn’t wearing clothes that hid it in desperation to not have to deal with them. 

Kendra had found out within minutes about Donnie’s birth records and constantly taunted him with it. It was the reason Donnie had quit their club, despite the rule that they would tell the world about him still lying beneath the surface of his mind and bugging at him relentlessly.

He takes a quick shower and tosses on a shirt and shorts, specifically being Raph’s clothes. Mikey was too many sizes too small and Leo wore skin-tight clothing in an attempt to echo their Pops and his legacy, not that Donnie blames him. However, he’s looking for comfort right now and that simply isn’t something his clothes will provide right now. 

He finds Mikey in their bedroom, looking somber but peaking up at Donnie with keen interest. 

“Hey,” Donnie mutters as he flops down, not minding that the only light is still just his lava lamp. 

You okay,” Mikey asks in reply, their expression sympathetic. 

“I’m tired,” he replies bluntly. He hesitates to ask, “Do you want to come lay over here with me for a bit?” 

“But won’t that hurt the-” 

He reassures quickly, “It won’t Mikey. I’m not that far along.” 

After a moment, the youngest Hamato leaves their bed, stumbling forward to lay with their older sibling. Immediately, the two curl together, nuzzling up to each other and getting as comfortable as they possibly can. 

For just a moment, Donnie doesn't feel like the world his crushing him and that his stomach is suddenly a billion boulders heavier. He feels safe and calm, relaxing within his sibling's hold and closing his eyes. He lulls into sleep without any issue whatsoever. 


	3. I don't care what you say

It had been a bit since Donnie had been to see a doctor and felt comfortable. He hated the doctors’ office no matter what happened and since he had last visited his gynecologist, that hadn’t at all changed. Within the month it had taken to wait after the appointment to get an ultrasound done, Donnie’s mind had been frazzled and full of doubts. He was supposed to be finishing up his masters! He was a fucking  _ genius, _ after all! Graduated before all his friends and family had, graduated at twelve and exceed from there, taking on multiple college courses at once and successfully bursting through barriers. He had become a fucking unintentional internet star a few years back when someone had posted a Snapchat photo along the lines of, _ “Why the fuck is there a kid in my college classes???” _ which had spread quickly. It had died down, thankfully. But Donnie could remember the comments, the accusations, the promises of his potential and just how great he would become. 

How would they feel now if they knew he was sitting in the middle of this place with his hands folded over his midsection, stomach revealed and a bladder full as he awaits the doctor that’s supposed to come in and do his ultrasound? The last time he had been here, he had been diagnosed with endometriosis and switched to online schooling for the best convenience with suck limited options at the time. He was young then and he’s technically young now, but he feels so incredibly old with the fear that weighs down his chest as he waits. 

The woman walks in and smiles politely at him. She’s the same woman he saw all those years ago, an elderly woman with grey hairs that are tied back in an accumulation of box braids as walks forward. She’s anything but professional as she walks in, sitting down beside the boy on a spinning chair. She specializes in LGBTQ+ care, specifically of Donatello’s kind and she doesn’t at all seem that out of it by his altered appearance, greeting him with, “Hello, Hamato! It’s been a while since I’ve last seen you!” 

“Yeah,” he says softly, “It has been.” 

Doctor Jordana doesn’t seem at all upset by his worried response, instead, moving the gel to a warmer in prep. “What’re you in for today? Nothing wrong with your ovaries again, right?” She scans over his chart with a kind, warm smile. 

“Pregnancy,” he says, “and a lack of options.” 

Doctor Jordana purses her lips but seems to understand what he means. “A lot of laws have passed on that,” she mumbles, sounding tired of it. “Have you discussed any with your doctors just yet?” 

“Yes,” he says, “and there isn’t anything I can really do about this.” He gestures to his lower midsection. He’d read over so many different official documents, looking for any sort of out. He didn’t  _ want _ to be a parent, knowing that he wasn’t ready for it. “I’m still considering what I’m going to do.” 

The doctor nods respectfully, grabbing the wand. “Alright, well, I won’t bore you with the details, then. I’m sure the full bladder is uncomfortable at this point.” 

“Very,” he gently retorts, which earns a soft chuckle from the other. 

“Let’s get this over with. Tell me if the gel is too hot if it burns, alright?” 

“Alright.” 

Donnie is thankful his Dad sat silently, merely watching the exchange before turning his attention to the screen as Doctor Jordana moved to prep him fulling, cleaning off his stomach with a disinfecting wipe and then placing towels on him to cover his clothes. She moves accordingly, placing the gel on his lower stomach and running the wand along his skin. He tenses at the contact, at the pressure against his bladder and uterus alike. It’s just a step away from being overwhelming. 

“Okay, I’ll keep this short,” she says, snapping pictures quickly. “I’ll check for a heartbeat first, then take a few more pictures for reference of placement and making sure that they’re growing healthy. If I don’t pick up a heartbeat, you won’t have to worry about any of this anymore and we can just get this over with now and do everything in office, okay?” 

“Okay,” Donnie answers. He feels like there are tears in his eyes, vision blurring and his face burning as he nods slowly. 

She hums in reply and goes about her job, Donnie watching her with an unsettled frown. Her eyes widen as she picks up the little beats, mouth falling open. She bluntly says, “There’s actually…  _ three.” _ And as she says it, Donnie hears the small projection of three different beats. 

Donnie folds his arm over his face, covering his eyes as he chokes on a broken sob.  _ Three? _ Fucking  _ three? _ Their home is barely large enough for the six people that already live there but now there’s going to be fucking  _ nine? _ They’ll have to move, to get a bigger home. And Donnie was barely even anticipating another new life, but he supposes the idea that he had, apparently, been a triplet before his identical twin had passed during his birth along with his mother was now fresh in his mind, burning just as much as the gel. 

His dad stands up, Baron quickly making his way forward and grappling onto Donnie’s other hand as he cries, holding tightly to the free limb and not saying a thing as Donnie attempts to stay composed. Instead of saying anything, Doctor Jordana is quick to get this over with, snapping a hefty amount of pictures before pulling away. She cleans off his stomach and sends him to the bathroom with promises to return with photographs after his Dad’s insistence he have them. She rushes out of the room and by the time Donnie is back from the bathroom and calmed down enough to be coherent, she has the pictures printed, which Donnie refuses to acknowledge whatsoever. 

The ride home lacks any conversation, Donnie’s cries being enough for Baron to know better than to initiate anything. And when they get home, he flops down on the couch and bawls in Leo’s arms, clinging to his older twin. 

It isn’t until two hours later when Donnie has cried himself out and that the family is gathered in the living room watching Jupiter Jim reruns on television that Donnie reveals, "It's triplets, just like Mom had..." 

He pretends he doesn't see his families' faces all drop in realization at the circumstances they may face, the consequences of things he didn't want to happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, yes, a little more insight to Donnie being a child prodigy and references to reals things that have happened in real life, nice.


	4. (P1)It's Called

Contrary to whatever belief Donatello’s family had formed, he had  actually grown rather attached to the three clumps of cells that were growing within him. He had gone to vast lengths to improve himself for the sake of whatever may or may not happen. He’d changed his diet, attempted to have a regular sleep schedule, started exercising with Raph whenever he had free time and was awake. The list went on and on. It was rough learning to juggle all these new developments with his body, the emotions that constantly slapped him in the face at random, the doctor appointments to ensure he was healthy, and many other things all while handling schooling and a regular life. Honestly, it was more than just a bit draining on him mentally. 

For the most part, he was handling it all rather well. He was coping well enough with the support of his family and the times when April and her girlfriends would come over. They would hang out for hours at a time, staying weekends whenever they could get away with it. Donnie liked Casey and Sunita, getting along well with the two just as well as he did with April. His siblings would crowd around whenever Donnie would show off pictures of his ultrasounds, almost proud of himself to be successfully forming three other beings inside of him. 

However, there was still a disconnection between Donnie and the fact that he was  growing three different human beings inside of him. The three, two girls and a boy, were all steadily being incubated within him. There were a few worries, ones like one of the girls being much smaller than the other two but still growing slowly. That was always a concern for Donnie that he found at the back of his mind, the fear there and eating away at him when he had time to think about it for far too long. There was also the realization that there were  three of them, meaning that he would most likely have to give birth to all three of them as well as the placentas. Maybe, Donnie isn’t too sure thanks to having never properly been introduced to health class thanks to the American health education lacking severely in topics like this. But if he does, it’s the equivalent of giving birth six different times and he  knew that was going to be incredibly painful on him. He wasn’t all that excited for  that bit. 

But there were positives in it, too. Positives like Donnie watching with a fond smile now every single time he saw those ultrasound pictures, peering at them with a proud gaze and then presenting them to his siblings or to April and her girlfriends. Sunita still wasn’t entirely sure how to process that Donnie was pregnant, to be quite honest, but she was getting the hang of it on her own terms, albeit a bit slower than Donnie would have hoped. Then again, he still couldn’t make the connection. 

Well, until he suddenly made the connection  tonight.

His body hurts. Sure, he has to give his existence credit. Pushing himself to run a few extra miles with Raph and Leo was not one of his smartest ideas but he had a lot of energy that he needed to burn off. That had become a lot more common but often meant entertaining Mikey and Leo alike since Donnie was now at twenty-five weeks. He was up for the challenge tonight, though, and had been willing to feel the burn in his muscles once more at the sake of being able to fall asleep after a shower. 

However, his shower is interrupted by a few cramps in his lower abdomen. It’s fine, though, Donnie manages to convince himself. He  had forgotten to eat something before he went out, he was probably just hungry right now. He silently hoped that the warm water will ease the ache in his lower back. He decides after he gets out that he really  shouldn’t  have pushed himself like that. 

He gets out of the shower and quickly gets dressed, slinking into his shared room with little noise to his movements. He was thankful Mikey was a heavy sleeper. Between Donnie’s tendency to stay up all night and the sudden trips to the bathroom that he would take often, Leo being an insomniac wouldn’t work out and Raph being a light sleeper wouldn’t have, either. 

He turns out the lights to the room before slipping beneath the covers. His eyes fall shut and the pain of the day becomes a blur as sleep wraps warm arms around him, comforting him with its blissful peace it tends to offer. 

Of course, Donnie wouldn’t be a Hamato if he didn’t end up waking up at the worst time with horrid luck punching him straight in the face. His head doesn’t feel like it’s in the right place as he suddenly leans up with a sharp noise leaving him, hand coming up to his lower back, gripping softly at the supple flesh there. His spine feels like it’s been cracked as he huffs out a quick breath of air. Another sharp pain leaves him, albeit coming from more of his bladder area than anything. It takes him a second to realize that his lap is wet, too. 

“Oh my gosh,” he grumbles as he stands up, huffing softly at how stiff his body is and the pain that shoots through his body with every movement. “Did I fuckin’ piss myself,” he says aloud, far more to himself than anyone else as he trots to the bathroom. He can vaguely hear Mikey’s confused grumble from being awoken by their older brother. 

Donnie doesn’t erply, shutting the door behind himself and going about his business. It isn’t until he goes to wipe that he realizes, hey, something is fucking  wrong. Only then does he realize that there’s blood staining his thighs and crotch as he fumbles.  That wasn’t healthy, nor were the shooting pains that only seem to worsen as he wakes up fully. 

Mikey gently knocks on the door to the bathroom, gently calling out, “Hey, Dee, you okay?” 

It takes him another moment and a half to register that Mikey had even said anything and it’s only because they repeat his name that it even registers. He flinches, a soft whimper leaving him before he says, “H - Hey, Mikey, wake up Pops or Dad, please?” 

“Huh,” comes their sharp response, “Donnie, what’s going on?” 

“I’m bleeding and cramping and it’s way too early for me to be giving birth.” He grabs a wipe, trying to clean himself off the best he can. “Can you get me some clothes, too?” 

“Shit,” Mikey curses before Donnie hears them fumble away, footsteps anything but graceful. Unceremoniously, Mikey opens the door a few moments later just enough to shove the clothes in the room, consisting of underwear, two different pairs of shorts, and two more different pairs of pants. “Didn’t know what you wanted but I’ll go get ‘em up right now!” 

“Thank you,” Donnie says in a whisper as he moves to collect his clothes. He takes off his shorts and underwear, tossing them into the sink and washing his hands, running cold water over the blood-covered clothing and replacing his clothes. He puts a pad on his underwear and forces himself to calm down, willing to ignore the sopping wet clothes as he throws them over the shower bar and weakly makes his way out of the bathroom.  Fuck, does he feel like absolute shit as he walks in a measly attempt to find shoes or whatever the fuck else he needs. He pretends seeing blood pooling on his bed doesn’t make him feel nauseated, too. 

His hands snap up to cover his ears at hearing the door get slammed open, both his Pops and his Dad there within an instant, Mikey meekly standing behind the two, not entirely sure what they’re supposed to do. But their parents rush in, immediately asking way too many questions and overwhelming the teenager upuntil he,  quite literally, yells at them both,  “Shut up!” His hands flap carelessly and the urge to cry is there as he stands in the middle of the room, aching and wanting nothing more than for the bleeding to stop and his body to take a break. Since  when had he become so sensitive? 

“Something’s  wrong,” he whimpers, watery eyes falling to his parents. He has to take a moment to breathe to hold himself together and not crumble beneath their worried looks. Unintentionally, he balls his fist as a rough cramp runs through him. Yeah, he knows  that isn’t good. 

“I’ll take him to the hospital,” Baron says before Yoshi has the opportunity to say anything. “Stay here with the kids, okay?” His eyes cautiously dart to Mikey, then to Leo and Raph, who are both standing at the door, probably disturbed by Donnie’s yelling. Yoshi immediately nods in understanding, patting Donnie’s back carefully before walking away to snag the other three’s attention and pull them away from the scene. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, fuck, i need to get ready for work so this chapter is SHORT


	5. Freefall (P2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no beta fuck off im two seconds from offing myself good night u sad fucks

The teenager has to inhale deeply to keep his ground. It wasn’t that he  _ wasn’t _ expecting this to hurt, no, he knew for  _ sure _ that this would hurt. He wouldn’t have a high pain tolerance if he didn’t know this, but it doesn’t help that his mind is screaming on repeat,  _ It’s too early, _ as he lays on the hospital bed, hands fisting at the fabric of the blanket he had thrown off himself only minutes into being tossed into the room. Seriously, between the varying response of his hormones and blood flow, he wasn’t all that surprised that he felt like he was on fire. He had done a lot of research, after all, he  _ expected _ this. 

However. He’s been here for a hot minute now and he’s already taken more than just a few tests while here. X-rays, a handful of ultrasounds, and a  _ shit ton _ of blood tests for the sake of “accuracy.” He hopes to all hell that it’s false, that all of this is just a horrible nightmare that’s pressing on his mind out of stress and the pain he’s feeling is a millisecond of discomfort that his brain, in its two-second dream state, interprets it as so much more. He can’t be going into labor, not now. He’s so early, too early for anything to be finished developing. He won’t make it mentally and he knows that physically, the fetuses won’t be anything more than a clump of cells during that time. 

Despite all his hopes, a sudden rush of pain has him letting out a loud yelp, damn near jumping off the bed with the mix of surprise and need to escape the pain. The pressure on his hips only seems to increase and he shifts his position in hopes of relieving it however he can. It doesn’t help in the very least, though, only seemingly increasing the pain and forcing him to choke down a sob that threatens to overflow his mind. He doesn’t want to be here! He wants to be at home with his family, watching Mikey draw whatever it is that interests them, listening to Raph and Leo debate about frivolous topics, chiming in every once in a while and only stirring on their heated debate, et cetera. He doesn’t want to be trapped in the confines of a hospital bed, wearing hospital-issued clothes, leaking fluids onto a sanitary pad that remind him too much of the day he had come back from that party, his mind screeching at the reminder. 

“Wanna go  _ home,”  _ he finds himself sobbing as a hand gently presses against his own. He can’t tell who it is, not between the flood of tears, squinting at what he’s gambling up to be contractions (of some sort), and his glasses having been taken off earlier when he had turned his head so suddenly at a throb of pain that they had been thrown off. He thinks it’s his dad, though, because the hand he barely registers to be holding his own hand squeezes softly, a reassuring action that Donnie finds himself mirroring without hesitation. 

He honestly feels like he’s a step away from passing out, a mixture between being light-headed and just barely even registering anything that’s going on. He thinks he may be between a mixture of delirious and in shock, though that might just be the severe exhaustion setting in. Donnie’s head wasn’t in the best of spots after using a good portion of his energy to fight to stay awake while also trying to stay as mentally in the game as he could. He could already feel everything clouding over as he used what he would have called his last reserves of energy if he were still wary enough to do so. He’s not, though, his mentality slipping as he tries to grapple onto the hand holding his own and not the fact that he has yet to be given any form of painkillers to halt the harsh aches that thrum through him. 

He focuses on thoughts of his family, He wants to be sitting at home right now. The television will be playing as he sits in the living room, volume turned low. He’ll scroll through his phone and wait for Leo to make his way into the room, taking a spot beside Donnie, laying his head on the purple-coded twin’s shoulder, watching as he scrolls through his phone without a comment, letting the noises eventually lull him into sleep. And Raph will follow soon once he realizes Leo hasn’t accidentally woken him up once, pressing a fond kiss to Donnie’s forehead and thanking him for getting Leo to sleep, which Donnie will smile and tell him that it’s no problem before watching his older brother pick up his twin with gentleness no one would ever expect from someone so large, though Raph will still carry the other to his bed and tuck him in before going back to sleep himself. And after that, Donnie may or may not get a few hours of sleep if he isn’t fixated on something on his computer. Mikey will come in during the early hours of the morning, making breakfast, the early bird not hesitating to cook for the family. And then their fathers will wander in, Pops going straight to the television to flip the channel, turning it up too loud and always waking Donnie up. He usually goes to his room at that point, saying good morning to his Dad on the way through. 

But things aren’t like that now. No, because Donnie’s done with his classwork and he’s confined in the hospital as nurses suddenly rush in, taking more tubes of blood in their wake. Donnie’s barely even responsive, too overwhelmed by everything to actually register what’s going on. His mind can’t cope with the pain and so many people suddenly touching all over him, shutting down but mentally recording all of it to review later. Donnie’s eyes go unfocused as he lays on the bed, merely nodding along to whatever is said, agreeing to whatever the doctors are saying, even if they aren’t addressing him. 

Finally, though, they pump him full of drugs, talking to his Dad about things that Donnie knows he should register but between the medications and his mind having clocked out, well, he only hears  _ placental abruption _ and that’s it. It doesn’t even register to him and he finds the word absolutely  _ hilarious, _ cackling at it weakly, his eyes flooding with tears, gushing down his face. A doctor tells him they’re going to put him to sleep, though he only hears  _ sleep _ and he finds himself nodding as the doctor puts a needle in the IV. Is it a needle? Donnie doesn’t know what it is exactly, but they count to three, warning him that it’ll burn and they have to do it two more times, counting to three and then flushing it. It burns a lot more than he expects, making him whine but slightly relax as the doctor’s sweet tone (praise, maybe) washes over him. They get another and repeat the process, then once more. 

Donnie’s already so tired. He doesn’t want to fight sleep anymore, his eyelids feeling heavier than they ever have. His mind has wandered so far, begging for the cells he’s been incubating to be okay. He can’t find it in him to fight any longer, smiling weakly as he chokes down a final sob. The doctor carefully places a mask on him, mind blurring rapidly into white streaks, forgotten. 

He closes his eyes with a final pained whine as they flush the IV once more, begging for sleep. It comes, though, haunting his mind with newfound nightmares and terrors he had never expected that all end bloody. 

His mind whispers as he feels sleep edging onto him,  _ It wasn’t supposed to be this way, was it? _

-

“How’s he doing,” Yoshi asks from the other side of the line, awaiting his husband’s answer with baited breath. Replies had been so incredibly limited, after all. He’d only heard the tiny bits Baron had managed to slip his way whenever possible. 

Baron had, quite honestly, been doing his absolute best to keep in contact with his husbands, sons, and youngest child. However, between begging doctors to actually see his son and fretting over the boy, well, he had found himself not only crossing more than just a few lines, but skipping right over a few without even meaning to. He hadn’t meant to go so distant and stop replying to everyone’s texts, but he was only one man and he could only handle so much earth shattering news at one. To be honest, he’s pretty sure “Donnie’s bleeding everywhere and something is wrong” as soon as he wakes up as said b y Mikey was that limit. 

Yes, Baron is a scientist, and yes, he works with human biology and such commonly, but there is only so much experience he has that can bode over to pregnancy, as well as that pool limiting to Donnie being both a teenager and transgender. His expertise could only do so much for his son and he had found himself feeling so ungodly  _ useless _ as he watched Donnie writhe in pain on the bed, sobbing his heart out before having mellowed out and barely even responding to anything whatsoever. He had to watch as all the words he said went over Donnie’s head, expression turning from one of unbridled pain to a blank slate that Baron wasn’t at all used to from his cynical son. It was jarring, watching his heart rate hop and skip between too low and too high with no remorse whatsoever, doctors  _ finally _ rushing in. 

He sighs. His fingers card through long locks of hair. His tone comes out soft, supplying, “He’s in surgery right now.” There’s no gentle way to deliver the blow that his child was where he laid now, the doctors had assured him as they delivered the news that he could either let his son die or do as was needed to keep him alive He had been a step away from, as Leo would say,  _ ‘rocking his shit’ _ for that. 

_ “Surgery,” _ he hears Mikey and Leo both wail at once, Mikey’s voice higher pitched and sounding more like a wheeze than anything while Leo sounded like he was a step from fainting. 

“It was a placental abruption. He lost one of the babies and they’re removing it to ensure the others aren’t injured by it.” 

He can hear his husbands defeated whisper of  _ “Shit,” _ though it’s muffled. He follows with, “How is he holding up?” 

He doesn’t bother to sugar coat the truth, admitting to the others, “I don't even think he’s aware of what’s going on right now.” He presses his elbow against the arm of the chair, eyes flitting to the door as the doctor calls out the name of a woman, who rushes forward with a hopeful smile. “He was so…  _ out of it, _ to say the very least. I’m pretty sure he got so overhwlemed by everything that he just shut down and stopped registering that things were happening. Even when the nurses came in and tried to talk to him about what happened, all he did was nod and agree. He didn’t even frown or anything. His heartbeat and everything else got so weird that they had to medicate him then and there just to make sure he didn’t injure himself further.” 

“Hold on,” he suddenly hears from his oldest son, Raph taking up the foreground of the receiver and speaking into it, “Are they gonna be keepin’ Donnie overnight or somethin’? Does he even know he lost one of ‘em?” 

“They’ll probably keep him to monitor his physical health and ensure the same thing doesn’t have to the remaining twins,” he answers his oldest, faltering on the last bit, “but… I’m not sure about the last part. I don’t think so, honestly.” 

Another nurse opens the door before anyone has the chance to say anything. She looks like she’s on her last bit of energy, strained thin and expression so sad as she calls, “Baron Draxum-Hamato,” with a broken tone. She holds tight to a clipboard, long nails digging into the wood. 

He doesn’t even bother to hang up, moving to stand and walking over to the nurse. “Is Donatello alright,” he asks without a second of hesitation, looking hopeful, though his stomach has already dropped and he feels ready to cry. Donatello has to be alright. He can’t be… be  _ dead. _ No, Donnie’s got a great future, he can’t just pass away. He’s had his future planned for years. He  _ has _ to be okay! 

The nurse nods after a moment of hesitation. “Donatello has woken up twice now,” she states, patient, “but I would like to explain why he’s woken up  _ twice. _ He woke up earlier, a few hours ago, but due to the nature of the surgery and what comes with it, as well as his medical records, we were unable to give hima form of laughing gas and he came out…  _ catatonic.” _

Baron cringes slightly, his chest tight. That wasn’t going to help Donnie, he was going to hate it when he was finally able to think about it properly. 

“We had to sedate and medicate him for fighting with the nurses and within his hassle, he managed to…  _ rip _ himself,” she cringes at the statement, her expression turning into a distrubed grimace that mirror’s Baron’s own. “We had to go back in for repairs and to stitch it up, but he’s come out the second time a lot better. We had to heavily medicate him the second time around but he is responsive, albeit slowly. He’s been asking for you since he woke up the first time, as well as what I am going to assume is a girlfriend and maybe best friend or family. April, Mikey, Raphie, Leon, and Pop Rocks?” 

“His best friend, sibling and other dad,” Baron says with a soft smile, fond that his son had asked for them. “Would you be able to give me a moment, please?” 

“Of course,” she says with a gentle smile, moving back without hesitation. 

Baron turns to the phone, scooting away before asking his husband, “Did you hear that?” 

Splinter snorts into the phone, his voice sounding a bit watery as he says, “I always knew Purple was a fighter.” He laughs softly. “Text us once you get more information, alright?” 

“I will, Love,” he immediately replies, “I’ll text you all as soon as I get any information, okay?” 

“Thank you. I love you.” 

“I love you, too,” Baron replies before he finally hangs up, knowing better than to say  _ goodbye, _ It always felt like a bad omen, after all. 

He finally turns back to the nurse, who smiles lightly, her hands folded in front of her as she patiently waits. Once she realizes he’s done and ready to see his son, she takes the lead in taking him to the recovery rooms. She walks down the winding hallways that don’t make sense to the man with no issue whatsoever, comfortable in her element and having already grown accustomed to her place there. Neither of them disturb the mutual silence, Baron’s anxiety preventing him from voicing anything out of paranoia, his heart thrumming quickly through his chest. 

However, the man hears his son before he actually sees him. The broken cries reach his ears, the pleading forcing his stomach to drop as he hears the weak tone and begging on loop. His throat feels tight as the nurse takes him into the room where the emotional support nurse stands, helping Donnie get a drink from his cup, albeit extra hard with his crying and broken apologies that don’t end, either. Another nurse monitors hsi vitals, both of which offer comfort the best they can to the confused and guilty teenager. His apologies don’t falter once. 

“Hey, Donnie,” Baron says the instant he gets close enough, his soft voice reaching his son’s ears. Donnie still doesn’t have his glasses on, still discarded, but he knows Baron’s voice by heart, eyes falling on him. Within a painful instant, tears rush down his cheeks, the confused expression crumbling into something so broken and painful that Baron has to will himself not to cave in right then and there. He strides forward, not caring as Donnie weakly pulls at his shirt, small hands missing the fabric a few times. Baron just leans forward, his son crumbling and falling into his arms, his body not entirely ready for the movements, though the medication prevents him from being aware of that. He clings to his father like he’s the final lifeline left in this world. Maybe, for this very moment, he is. 

“I - I did this,” Donnie chokes out, “I kill - lled her, Dad.” 

Immediately, Baron’s throat feels that much tighter. He didn’t think his heart could plummet any lower, yet the strong organ and his stomach both feel like they’re joined in the pits of Tartarus right now. 

“I pushed myself too - too much. If I hadn’t ran with Raph and Leo, I would be fine.  _ She  _ would be fine and alive and-” 

_ “No,” _ Baron says, his voice solid but sympathetic, “This isn’t your fault, Donnie. It couldn’t have been.” His eyes flit to a nurse, though, a desperate plea for confirmation that he wasn’t just spewing lies out of his ass because he  _ knew _ Donnie would find out, one way or another. She smiles lightly and gives him a motion that’s silent confirmation that, no, that had not been what caused the placental abruption. He can’t deny that he relaxes at knowing he isn’t lying to his already hurt son. That would be like salt in the wound. “It just happens sometimes. It wasn’t your fault. There isn’t any way to tell things like this are going to happen. You did everything in your power to save them and I am  _ so _ proud of you,  _ got it?” _

Donnie falls forward, head moving from his chest to his shoulder. Tears soak the fabric but Baron doesn’t mind, just thankful for the nod he gets in return. It doesn’t stop him from feeling the way fingers curl against the back of his shirt, gripping at them so tightly, full of terror,  _ desperate. _ It’s going to haunt him for the rest of his days, he knows. 

“We’ll be keeping him at least another night,” the emotional support nurse informs in a soft voice, “Just to monitor his mental and physical health, as well as the remaining two fetus’ own healths. It won’t be more than six days, tops.” 

_ “Thank you,” _ he mouths with a soft nod, watching as the emotional support nurse and the one that lead him to the room both leave, giving them some form of privacy, though the third one checking his vitals hovers. Once she deems them stable, though, she leaves, her expression soft but hurt, so painfully sympathetic. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave likes and comments! If you particularly liked my fic, here's my Discord server!  
> https://discord.gg/eGkwayy


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